In Which Roy Perves About Kal's Body
by RocksCanFly
Summary: But Not In The Way You'd Think     Growing up around superheroes sets certain standards.


The hottest thing about Kaldur's body, Roy had decided long ago, was his face.

Yeah, yeah. Cliché, soppy, and romantic. Shut up.

But, no, seriously? When practically every person he came into contact with in his superhero life had an insanely sexy body, a perfect chest and ass start to become less of a turn-on and more of a pre-req. It was like being part of the superhero world since he started to_ have_ a sex drive had put a "must-be-this-hot-to-ride" sign on his libido. Whereas most guys would _kill_ for any girl who looked like a supermodel, he wasn't interested unless she had a little something extra.

To be honest? Sometimes it got annoying.

Like when a perfectly attractive woman would be hitting on him in a bar, and he knows that he should be interested, but because he _also_ knows that the woman hitting on him _isn't_ physically capable of breaking his arm barehanded, he just can't seem to work up the drive.

This resulted in his pool of available dating prospects shrinking significantly.

Of course, the pool got a little bigger after he discovered he was bi. But only a little. Because not only is practically every male he knows in the business capable of snapping him like a twig, but they're also all insanely hot. Therefore, unusual strength _also_ became a pre-req for men.

So. Yeah. Same issues, different gender. He was still incredibly picky.

All in all, it's safe to say that Kaldur's body, by itself, is not all that impressive to him. Yeah. He's hot. You'd have to be fucking blind not to see that. But so is _everyone he knows_.

Very few people he knows, and even fewer men, however, have cheekbones and eyes quite like _that_.

Sometime, Roy find's it ridiculous how distracted he gets by Kaldur's eyes. They're just the right shade of grey-green to look silver in moonlight. When night's the time of day that they do most of their activities together (both of the heroic variety and those of the distinctly _not_) it can be a little distracting. Like, _miss-your-target-by-a-whole-foot-because-Kaldur-turnt-his-head-in-a-certain-direction_ kind of distracting.

In his own defense, he almost always shakes it off and pins the target he missed before they have to embark on a high-speed motor-bike chase. Almost always.

It's really best not to let Roy get started on the cheekbones. Usually because he has no comprehensive way of explaining just how sexy they are to him, and will often end up punching a hole in the nearest wall out of frustration.

But. There are other things. Like the stark contrast of Kaldur's hair and his skin. And his soft, expressive mouth that looks just plain sexy when in its usual flat, serous line, and just plain _fuckable_ when it's quirked in humor or annoyance.

Besides the look of his mouth, there's the _feel_. One thing he distinctly prefers about guys over girls is the lips. But Kaldur's lips are perfect for kissing. They're fuller, like a lot of girls, and all the time that the other boy spends underwater keeps them from getting chapped. Then there's way they feel against other areas on his body, specifically those that are significantly _south_.

Then there's the way that his tattoos twist up his limbs, practically _road-mapping_ a path for a pair of wandering hands or a curious tongue.

And the oddly attractive webbing between his fingers and toes (though that attraction may be springing more from the noises that the younger hero makes when Roy puts his mouth there).

The fact that Roy can make Kaldur _melt_ just by stroking a hand down his gills is pretty hot, too.

But, really, the most physically attractive part of Kaldur is his face. The way his eyes gleam, half open and clouded, when he's aroused. Or the look of blonde eyelashes fluttering against aquiline cheekbones. How he can look as elegant as a prince even when he's flat on his back, getting his brain fucked out by his foul-mouthed, bad-attitude, Navajo-reservation raised ginger boyfriend.

Sometimes Roy even has trouble maintaining rhythm, when the blinds are wide open and the moon is full and that face just looks so fucking _perfect_.

He gets lost in the planes and angles of Kaldur's bone structure, in the beads of sweat dripping down glistening skin and full, bruised lips parted slightly, pants of breath escaping into the heated air as Kaldur gasps, gills fluttering in an attempt to take in oxygen from the water that isn't _there_.

And, sometimes. Roy slows down on purpose, just to see those perfectly slanted eyes flicker open and fix him with a look that says "if-you-do-not-continue-doing-what-you-were-doing-we-are-going-to-have-some-conflist-and-I-am-rather-enjoying-this-so-_stop_-staring-and-_move_".

And Roy _always_ chuckles at this and picks back up the pace, thrusting _faster_ and _deeper_ and gripping a muscled calf so he can bend the other man almost-in_-half_, so the angle is _perfect_ and Kaldur's eye's droop back down and soft moans escape those lips and the moon throws shadows off those _perfect_ cheekbones and Roy can just _never_ get _enough_...

But when they get close, and everything is _hot_ and _tight_ and just on this side of _good_, when Kaldur finally goes overboard, with his legs wrapped around Roy's waist and his head thrown back and his eyes open up into wide, perfect disks that catch the moonlight and his mouth shapes into a little "o"-

Roy hates himself for it sometimes, because he feels as cheesy as West, or, God forbid, _Ollie_, when he thinks about it, but... that's what usually sends him over the edge.

And then there's the dopey, hazy expression the Atlantean has afterwards. Like the weight of the whole world just slid of his shoulders, and he's floating freely in the cool calm of the ocean. His eyes open to barely-there slivers, flashes of silver peeking out behind dark lids and light lashes, as his mouth goes slack in a rare, lazy grin. Those moments are pretty close to one of Roy's favorite things ever.

Except maybe, for those rare mornings when Roy wakes up before his insane, up-with-the-sun lover. Then, when all of his features are completely relaxed and the sun is _just_ starting to rise... Roy will never admit, even under the pain of death, that it is in these moments too, like when Kaldur is in the heat of battle, that he might just have a _little_ trouble _breathing_.

So. Yeah. Call him a giant-fucking-cheese ball, but facts are facts. Whether it's forcing those lips to quirk up and one of those eyebrows to raise with a dry, well placed comment or reducing that oh-so-calm, always serious expression to utter mush, he just can't seem to help himself.

All in all, Kaldur just has a face that Roy loves to wreck.


End file.
